Well, here we go... This is it, my first attempt at literature, not just erotica, but in general. I just thought I'd try it this once, and see how things go. I'd appreciate any comments, advice, and even criticism, so email me at sdauson@hotmail.com.
This story is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real life are entirely coincidence. This story is not meant to imply anything about the sexuality of Brian Littrell, or any others of the Backstreet Boys. Again, this is only fan fiction, mixed with a little wishful thinking, nothing more.
If you are under the age of 18, or your local laws prohibit you from reading such material, please leave now. The same applies to anyone offended or made uncomfortable by stories involving consensual homosexual male relationships. Basically, if you continue reading, you are doing so on your own free will, and I cannot and will not be held responsible for any consequences.
Authors Note: I kind of felt there are too many Brian stories out there on the Nifty Archives right now... I decided to make this one a little different in the sense that it's narrated in the first person by Brian himself. Of course, I am not Brian, I'm just pretending to be. ;)
That being said, on with the story...
Blind Faith Part I
You know what the worst part about being famous is? The loneliness. That empty feeling at the bottom of your stomach, pulling at your insides. That nagging feeling that your missing something in your life. Missing something so great, so spectacular, that being left out of it makes you want to cry. It's severity doesn't make matters any better. It's an absolutely awful feeling, but it's what I have to live with. It's something I've come to regard as normal, and try not to give it a second thought. I just wish it wasn't so... daunting.
Of course, people say, it's nothing a meaningful relationship can't get rid of. Just one problem with that... I'm gay. Always have been, always will be. I've lived with it, but never quite come to terms with it. I've kept my sexuality a secret from everybody, even my most intimate friends. Everyone around me has been in the dark for years, and it has to stay that way. For their own good, and for the good of the Backstreet Boys. A relationship that actually means something to me is an impossibility for just that reason.
The only reason I'm writing this now is because I've just been through one hell of an experience. It's been a long time since I've felt such strong emotions, and I think I owe it to myself to share my story with someone, anyone. Despite the risk I'm presently taking, in regards to my future, my career, and my friends, what I've just been through has to be shared. It's just not healthy to keep things bottled up inside you, be them good or not.
It wasn't even a year ago when this all began, though to me it seems much longer. The group was in the middle of a short, week long vacation. I felt the need for some alone time, and found myself in the small ski town of Belburly for a few days. The first thing on my mind was of course, skiing. I wouldn't want to miss such an opportunity. After all, this entire city's economy seemed to be based on it. There was obviously something about their slopes worth investigating. Besides, plenty of cute guys were usually there too. Although I knew I was bound by my own fame, an aesthetically pleasing face was always a welcomed sight.
It was a nice little ski resort, with a sort of quaint charm. It was just what I was looking for. I changed into my ski gear, rented my skis, and was soon out on the slopes. I had some great fun that day, be it with skiing, or stopping off to the side to play in the snow, which I did on more than one occasion. As soon as I had my fill of the snow, I headed for the lodge.
Now all I needed was a mug of hot chocolate, and I'd curl up in a chair near a window for 20 minutes and rest for a while. It was so peaceful, so relaxing to just sit and watch the world around me. To simply exist, not as a variable in the dozens of lives that were crossing about me every few minutes, but as an inert object. I rather liked simply being an observer.
My ski ensemble acted as a nice disguise, as no one seemed to recognize me. For that, I was grateful. Attention was something I got a little too much of, and this specific kind of attention I seemed to attract got annoying very fast. Today, though, I was just another face in the crowd, another ordinary person. I've never really understood fame, or even claimed to. The entire premise of it seemed so arbitrary. Maybe that's why I disliked the attention it drew.
People continued to hum about their business, moving around the lodge. A few others had taken up positions similar to mine, and seemed to be just as content. It was such a relaxing position, not just physically, but mentally as well. This wasn't like resting all alone in some hotel room. Being with people, whether you knew them or not, was good for your spirits. It was a comforting notion, but the core of my ache was still there. I needed someone to share my soul with, and that opportunity didn't come on a weekly basis. But this would have to do for now, and at that moment, it was enough.
I looked around the room, taking in the atmosphere, the warmth, the beauty, and the people all around me, each with his or her own thoughts, personality, and feelings. Marvelous. As my gaze passed around the room, someone caught my eye. Rather, it seems, I had caught someone elses eye. It was a kid of probably no more than 17, with blonde hair. There wasn't much else could I make out from as far away as I was, except that his eyes were fixed directly on me.
At first I wasn't sure what I was going to do. Had this guy spotted me? Did he know who I was? The answer was most likely yes, but that set an even more difficult dilemma before me. What to do about it. I couldn't just sit where I was. To many variables presented themselves, and it was only a short term solution. Besides, his stare was starting to get to me. I could either leave, or go introduce myself. At first, the latter seemed downright crazy, but as I though about it, feelings of regret began to surface.
I had found myself in the middle of a situation similar to this one once before. It was probably a few months prior to these events, but I can't remember any date more specific than that. Another male Backstreet Boy fan had noticed me in a crowded club. I could have introduced myself, but my fears of what I was, and what it could do to the group were overpowering, and I simply left. Despite my self assurances that it was an insignificant encounter, and nothing good could come of it, I'd regretted my actions ever since.
It seemed a crossroads in my life had just presented itself. A decision made within the next few minutes would more than likely affect the rest of my life. After careful deliberation, I came to one inescapable conclusion: You only live once. If I went and introduced myself, the worst that could happen was that I'd be publicly outed. If I didn't, I knew I'd regret it for the rest of my life. Further regret was not something I wanted on top of my current frame of mind. On reflection, I can see how much the exposure of my sexuality really would have cost me, but at that moment, my judgement had been partially clouded by my desire for companionship.
It was then I realized he might not be gay. Typical of myself to overlook that. The way my mind selectively withheld certain information from me at times was amazing. That was all I needed though, because if worst came to worst, I could just go under the pretense that I just wanted to say 'hi' to what looked like a Backstreet Boy fan. He was still staring at me... I'm pretty sure he couldn't tell I was looking back at him, with what I had on my head. I slowly stood up.
Despite my self assurances that I was just going to meet a regular fan, my legs were unsteady, and I had that unsettling feeling in my chest, accompanied by the ever common butterflies in my stomach. As soon as I began to approach the young blonde, he quickly turned his gaze away. It was almost funny, how blatantly he had been staring at me earlier, and now pretending I wasn't even there. I approached further, still trying to keep my heart from leaping out of my chest.
While I had my chair all to myself a moment earlier, he was sitting on a small bench, perhaps made for three people. The rest was empty, and it made my confrontation all the easier. Had another person come and sat down, such a deterrent would have forced me back to my chair, so fragile was my mental confidence in this situation. Anything that didn't go as planned would likely send me back in the other direction.
I was fortunate today, and nothing impeded my trek. As I saw it in that moment, this was my one chance at happiness. Although not entirely true, I believed it at the time, for one reason or another. 'Please, let him be gay. Please, let him like me,' I told myself over and over again. I felt a little silly. He still didn't look up as I approached. I sat down right beside him with the simple word, "Hi.", and smiled, hoping what people said about my smile was true.
"Oh,um... Hi."
It seemed my attempt at persuading him to like my using my facial expression was in vain. He still refused to look me in the face. I imagine it was out of embarrassment, anxiety or any other of the emotions someone might normally be feeling in his situation. He continued to stare into his lap, turning slightly red.
If I thought I had been nervous, it was nothing compared to what this guy must have been feeling at that moment. He still wasn't looking at me, and upon closer inspection, I could see he was trembling ever so slightly. I decided to play it casual for the moment, again with the 'just coming over to say hi' attitude. Maybe it would help ease a little of our anxiety.
"So, what's up?"
"Nothin' much...", he replied. He still didn't avert his gaze from his lap. "You're Brian Littrell, right?"
I couldn't help but smile. "That'd be me. You a fan?" I chuckled just a bit to myself. "I couldn't help but notice you looking in my direction a minute ago."
Now he really began to turn red in the face. "Yeah, uh..", he stuttered a bit before continuing. "I, um, have your CD, yeah."
"I see." Suddenly I saw a huge failing in my plan. I didn't have anything to say to my new friend, and from what I'd seen so far, this guy wasn't going to start a conversation any time soon either. "So, just hanging out here?" I tried desperately to keep him talking.
I suppose I could have launched into a conversation about myself, and what I'd been doing in regards to my career and the Backstreet Boys. It was a source of interesting discussion most of the time, but right now, I didn't feel like being a Backstreet Boy. A bit to my surprise, he kept his distance from the subject. He didn't ask for an autograph, or inquire as to the rest of the band. Maybe he was just glad I let his little staring problem drop.
"Yup. It's been sort of a gloomy week. Not bad or anything, just a little depressing.", he said. "What about you?"
"I'm actually doing pretty well, thanks." Again, the awkward silence. I had to do this. Every fiber in my being told me that I had to pursue this, and this wasn't going to go anywhere with me playing a passive, indifferent role in this conversation. It took another second or two to persuade myself into doing what I was about to do. "Tell you what, dude. Take me to lunch, and I'll give you an autograph." I gave him the best smile I could produce.
I think my proposition caught him off guard, because for the first time since I had approached him, he looked up at me. He didn't answer me for a second, he just stared at me again with his light blue eyes. I began to feel a bit self conscious, almost like I was being probed by his eyes, as if he were scanning me. Maybe he was just trying to see if I was being sincere. Indeed I was. Finally, his reply came.
"You know what?", the cutest smile crossed his face. "It's a deal." His expression was priceless.
Still in our present clothing, we left for a small diner just down the street. It wasn't a major chain or anything, and because it was a bit late for lunch, but not late enough for dinner, there were only one or two other patrons currently eating there. We quickly found ourselves a nice corner, and sat opposite each other in a small booth.
It wasn't until now that I was able to get a good look at this kid. For the first time, I noticed this guy was really cute. Not that handsome look, with the chiseled features and the rugged face, but that absolutely adorable quality you find in small animals. His hair was of the most spectacular blonde I'd ever seen. Not just bright, but it had a rich, light golden color to it, as opposed to that bleached blonde look. His eyes were simply incredible, a magnificent blue that sparkled with unbridled passion. It was such a light blue, it reminded of Carribean waters.
He spoke first. "You're really Brian Littrell?"
I smiled at his disbelief. "The one and only." I suppose he still had his doubts, as I probably would, had our positions been reversed. I got the distinct feeling that he was more of a fan than he had let on earlier. It occurred to me that I still hadn't caught his name. "What about you?"
"Huh? Oh, umm... Evan."
His thoughts seemed slightly preoccupied. I assumed he was probably analyzing this situation just as I was, or maybe he was just in a sort of shock. The latter brought another smile to my face. Perhaps I was something of an idle to him. How cute. Either way, it was definitely an awkward situation for him.
Again, I thought of how I'd be handling the situation if I were in his shoes. I probably would have collapsed by now, in all honesty. He was still quite tense, though no longer visibly shaking. That, at least, was a good sign.
My tension, on the other hand, was increasing. I'm sure my anxiety levels could have rivaled his by now. I still couldn't believe I was actually doing this. 'When did I ever get to be so brave?' I asked myself. I suppose the only reason I wasn't stuttering and shifting uncomfortably like my friend here was because I'd learned to control certain instinctive reactions to some extent. I was almost impressed with myself at how well I was managing to control my behavior.
"Nice to meet you, Evan." Again, I smiled.
A young waitress came by and handed us each a menu. We took a few moments to decide what we wanted, then each made our order. To this day, I can't recall what we had ordered, but I suppose it doesn't really matter now. We never even got a chance to eat it, anyway, thanks to me.
"So, Evan, tell me about yourself."
I was filled with a new confidence all of the sudden. Here I was, making acquaintances with a person I'd never encountered before. So what if I didn't get a lover out of it? I was determined to at least try to make a new friend. Friends weren't something I had in abundance either. Not real friends, anyway. My new attitude helped to alleviate some of my earlier anxiety.
"Not really much to tell. Uh, I'm a highschool Junior at Belburly High, I'm sixteen years old. Umm... I was born and raised here as an only child. I suppose that's about it."
His unease was slowly dissipating, and he was able to talk pretty freely now, without that little quiver in his voice. He wasn't exactly forthcoming with information about himself, but that was understandable, considering despite all my fame, I was little more than a stranger whom he'd met a half an hour ago.
"Cool." I gave him a smile. Sixteen? It was an awfully large age difference between us. I decided I'd worry about that later, though. "I suppose it's my turn now.", I said with another smile. "Let's see, I was born and raised in Lexington, Kentucky, attended Tates Creek High School for a while, and joined the Backstreet Boys when I was 18." I decided to follow his suit, and keep it brief.
Our food arrived, and I continued asking pointless questions, just to keep him talking. We talked about the ski lodge, the weather, the local attractions and other irrelevant things. He never took the initiative, and always stuck to answering my questions, never asking any of his own. He was obviously pretty shy, or at least he was around me. He was carefully avoiding any further mention of what I did for a living. It was a sweet gesture, despite whatever his motive might have been.
I sat there, simply watching him talk. I could feel myself slipping into the same sort of stare that Evan had used on me in the lodge, and frankly, I didn't care. He looked so... so perfect, for lack of a better word. His light blue eyes, perfectly complimenting the short, bright blonde hair. His adorable face. I didn't hear a word he was saying, but since he was just responding to another of my senseless inquiries, I don't think I missed much.
It was at that moment that I had to kiss him, right there. Don't ask me why, but I didn't want to do this awkward dance around the truth. I knew that I had to show him how I felt, and if he didn't feel the same way, at least I'd have gotten this over with. I leaned over the small table, and as swiftly as I could, so as to prevent him from backing away, drew this kid, who I only knew as Evan and not met but an hour earlier, into the most passionate kiss I could muster.
That's all for right now... I didn't want to make this opening part too long, considering I'm not sure whether or not I'll be continuing this story. It actually depends solely on you, the reader. If people want me to continue, I will. :) Send me some email at sdauson@hotmail.com with your positive and negative feedback, just try to keep it constructive. :) Awaiting your decision,
Sam